


Like Velcro

by mythic0wings



Series: After the End [3]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Cuddling & Snuggling, Embarrassed Peter Parker, Gen, Irondad, Not Canon Compliant, Platonic Cuddling, Snarky Tony Stark, Tony Stark Lives, no beta we die like men, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-20 17:13:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18996991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythic0wings/pseuds/mythic0wings
Summary: Tony gets a call in the wee hours of the morning.





	Like Velcro

**Author's Note:**

> So, while I was writing "You Can't Run From Your Feelings" this little thought crept into my head and just, would NOT leave. So, here is Peter, being sleepy, cuddly accidental Velcro.

The video call that pops up to Tony’s right is of a disgruntled looking Doctor Stephen Strange. Distinctly rumpled and lacking his usual red cape and blue robes in favor of gray sleepwear. “Stark, come collect your spawn.” The other man is stern, as almost always, but there is an undertone of severe annoyance to him this morning. 

Tony pauses, putting down the tool in his hand to look at Strange. “Spawn? Did you take Morgan, Strange? Because honestly, you could have just asked. I’m sure she’d love that cloak that is currently missing from your person.” 

Strange’s expression became a little more severe and he directed the phone down toward his waist. Mouse-brown curls of hair hid most of Peter’s face while his arms were looped loosely around Strange’s waist in a hug. Peter who had his legs tangled around one of Strange’s like a limpet. Strange merely cocked an eyebrow. “Not your daughter, Stark. The other one. Get him,  _ now.” _

Tony pursed his lips, covering his mouth as he stared at the feed. Fighting the urge to bust into laughter. “I don’t know, he looks awfully comfy. It’s like with cats, you just don’t move when they’ve chosen you. Or so the internet says. Plus, it’d be a long trip back for his classes. Honestly it just might not be worth it.” He prattled on, gesturing as he spoke. 

“He won’t let  _ go.” _ Strange said, tugging on Peter’s own to show that yes, Peter’s hand was stuck to Strange’s clothes. “Come get him to release me.” 

Tony blinked, surprised to see Peter actually and legitimately stuck to the other man. “Huh, he’s never done that before. So you’re like, stuck. Real good too.” 

Peter, presumably still dead asleep, groaned softly in his sleep, cuddling somehow closer to Strange at being pulled on. 

Strange bristled throwing a heated look down at the brunette. “Obviously. Now, I’m going to summon a portal and you will come remove your son from my person.” Already the burning points of orange lines came to life around Strange’s scarred fingers. The video tilting wildly as Strange sets it down on the coffee table. 

Tony waves his hand, making a slashing motion across his neck. “Hey, hey, let the kid sleep. No portals!” A quick flick of his wrist tells him the date and with a moment of mental math he points a stern finger at the video feed. “It’s midterms, he’s probably exhausted. I will be there, you stay comfy.” He goes to end the call, the orange sparks dying down on Strange’s end before the rest of the conversation catches up to him. “Also, not my son. I am his  _ mentor. _ ” He told the other man, affronted. 

Strange scoffs, rolling his eyes and not believing Tony for a second. “Yeah, right.” Opening a small portal to grab some old-looking tomb. 

With an eye roll of his own Tony ended the call. The screen dying down it brings the dimness of the room back to him. He’s awake but it’s not quite sunrise and Morgan and Pepper are asleep. His tinkering has led to mostly making toys or playthings or ideas for Peter’s suit in his restlessness. It’s like the battle of New York, or spending those days in space with Nebula, but not quite as bad. 

As it oftens happens when he dips into those memories, of the war, of its end, his eyes drift to the new prosthetic that works under his tee-shirt. Gleaming edges of red and gold staring back at him, the remainder of a dull ache in useless and scarred muscle. 

Snorting at his own emotional holdups he steps back to a newer model of his portable suit. It unfolds and shifts and whirrs in near silence to encase him. It fits like a glove, sinking hooks into his mechanical arm. 

 

When Tony does walk in the front doors, his suit falling back and away, he goes straight to the living area. Indeed, Peter is still wrapped around Strange and now snoring lightly. The old tomb is still in Strange’s hands and the ex-surgeon doesn’t even turn to look at him. A difference he does notice is that sentient clock of Strange’s now tucked over them. “You guys are adorable, I gotta have a picture.” 

Strange closes his tomb firmly but quietly, twisting his neck to look at Tony. Glowering fiercely the man sets down his book with as much disapproval as he can muster. “Absolutely  _ not _ . You even try and I will send that arm  _ and _ that suit of yours across the galaxy.” 

Tony holds up his hands, bowing his head in acquiescence. “You’re right, it’d be rude. I can’t ask Peter if he wants one.” 

“Stark.” Strange practically growls, rousing the Cloak into peeling away from their tangled legs. Peter’s brow furrows and he shifts, gripping higher on Strange’s night shirt. Seeking the warmth of the older man. 

“You are no fun, at all.” Tony chides but does walk up to the pair on the couch. Placing his flesh hand on Peter’s upper back he shakes the young man gently. “Peter, hey, Pete.” 

Peter reacts to Tony’s voice time, mumbling something inaudible but not waking. 

Strange arched an eyebrow. “You don’t think I tried that?” 

“Shush, you. I know what I’m doing.” Tony shot back without venom, working his hand down Peter’s closest arm to rub his fingers into Peter’s muscles. Slowly but surely causing them to relax. “Come on, Pete. Gotta wake up or we’ll miss breakfast. You know you love breakfast.” 

Peter’s hand does relax and loosen its grip with the ministrations, eventually peeling away from Strange’s shirt.

‘Breakfast?’ Strange mouths incredulous, holding Peter’s now freed hand away from him. 

It’s Tony’s turn to lift his eyebrows while he continues to try to wake Peter. “I tell you, it’s amazing, Pep stuck around to make it even. Morgan misses having you around too.” He cajoles, moving his hand to above Peter’s hip. 

Peter groans at being moved around, cracking open one eye this time. “ ‘organ?” He asks, his voice thick with sleep. 

Tony’s face crinkles with a surprisingly gentle smile. “Yep, Morgan. If you want, you’re at Strange’s place at the moment.” He answers, shifting aside to offer a view of the room. 

Peter opens both eyes this time, blinking slowly while he brain comes back online. “Huh? Why are you at…?” It then that he notices that he is not wrapped around a large pillow but Doctor Strange himself. Less than three seconds pass before his face flushes beet red and he’s falling off the couch trying to extricate himself from the man. “Oh! Sorry, I am, just, so sorry.” 

Strange gladly takes the opportunity to sit up and fold his legs while the Cloak settles on his shoulders. “It is alright, you were rather… attached. So I called Tony.” 

Peter takes the offered hand of Tony to get to his feet. Sleep still lingering as it takes a moment before it clips. If possible, his face gets even redder. Creeping down his neck and to his ears. “Oh, geez, that’s uh, I’m, I’m sorry.” Beside himself, Peter covers his face in his hands. Peeking through his fingers to gauge the two other men in the room. 

Tony purses his lips, looking at the floor at how flustered Peter is before clapping a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Kid, it’s okay. No harm done, do you want that breakfast?” 

“Breakfast?” Peter lowers his hands, some of the color draining from his face. “Did I forget something? If I did I-I didn’t mean to. School just gets so busy and I’m studying for a bunch of tests and-” Peter continues, shifting restlessly but is cut off when Tony squeezes his shoulder. 

“Nope.” Tony says, popping the ‘p’ and withdrawing his hand. “This is a surprise plan, I decided this morning.” 

Strange coughed lightly into his hand, then folding them in his lap. “As sappy as you two are, should I portal you two home now?” He interrupts, tipping his head toward the open space to their left. 

“Sure thing, you are far too grumpy this morning. Send us away.” Stepping into the directed space Strange does just that. Orange sparks dancing circles in the air as they grow wide enough for them to walk through; showing the front door of the Stark residence cast in gray pre-dawn light. 

As they walk through Peter tilts his head toward Tony, “Home? Did he just-?” 

“Don’t question it.” Tony cuts Peter off as the portal seals shut behind them. 

 

Strange lets out a long, slow breath as near silence settles back in the Sanctum. Gently massaging his hands and pretending not to miss the surprising warmth of Peter nestled to his side. He simply spent far too much time alone. 


End file.
